I love my kid, I love my kid, I love my kid, I love my kid...

So, I got basically zero sleep. Anabelle slept just fine. JJ, for God knows why, was all over the bed and couldn't lay still to save his life. Wiggle, turn, kick, toss, cuddle, squirm, "Bud, lay still," or "Back to your own bed, JJ", all freaking night. And of course he's perky and rested, and I feel like warmed-over roadkill.

Wanna know the real kicker? The only computer we have that can cope with Netflix has once again decided that it's not going to play nice. So I can't even stick him in front of an electronic babysitter for the morning.

What I *want* to do is make him sit in an empty Pack & Play with a tray of dry cold cereal, a water bottle, absolutely nothing to do, and spank him every time he wiggles or complains.

Because that's what my parents would do if I had kept them up all night, and that's fair, right? My turn, right?

Because I am not my parents, I will not be putting my 3 year old on the equivalent of lock-down. I will not be slamming doors and muttering imprecations at inanimate objects all day long.

He has a breakfast dray consisting of fruit, a peanut butter sandwich, and sliced lunch meat, which he loves.

He has a pack of crayons and a stack of fresh paper to draw on.

He has a room full of toys and books with which to entertain himself.

And I have explained to him in the clearest possible terms that there is to be no whining, complaining, or fit-throwing today, and that pretty much everything he says to me had best start with the words "Yes, Mommy."

So far, he's doing surprisingly well with that bit.

I'm doing surprisingly well with reminding him when he forgets.

The cats keep trying to trip me, I can hear the hus-beast snoring all the way in the livingroom, the baby is still sound asleep, and oh yeah... the Road Works department decided that our setback was a good spot to put a construction warning sign. Once again I seem to be the only person who knows how to load a dishwasher or put the clean stuff away, and it's a damn good thing there's a crock full of dinner ready to go, because the kitchen's closed today.

*sigh*

I love my kid, I love my kid, I love my kid, I love my kid, I love my kid,
I love my kid, I love my kid, I love my kid, I love my kid, I love my kid,
I love my kid, I love my kid, I love my kid, I love my kid, I love my kid,
I love my kid, I love my kid, I love my kid, I love my kid, I love my kid,
I love my kid, I love my kid, I love my kid, I love my kid, I love my kid,
I love my kid, I love my kid, I love my kid, I love my kid, I love my kid,
I love my kid, I love my kid, I love my kid, I love my kid, I love my kid.

It's not his fault he had trouble sleeping. He can't help it that he was restless. I have restless nights where I toss & turn all night long... or just get up and read a book.

*deeeeeeeeeeeeeep breaths*

Ah, the bliss...

The day we left the hospital with JJ, I was wheeled out with that tiny, perfect little creature sleeping in my arms, and a total stranger took it upon herself to shatter my moment with a snarked "You'll sleep again... someday." Hyuck hyuck.  

JJ slept wonderfully last night. Went to bed after his bath, was out cold by quarter past 7, and barely stirred when Daddy and I came to bed at 10:30. We did a dream-feed, and he didn't wake me up again until 6!  GO, my little man, GO!!!

And today? He has, at this moment, been asleep for 110 minutes straight and still going. Not a peep. After two weeks of having to be nursed back down mid-nap, this is bliss.  Utter bliss.

Of course, it probably just means he's done cutting this particular tooth and the next one will start being a problem by Monday at the latest. LOL

But in the meanwhile, I am enjoying the energy level that comes with a full night's sleep, and the ability to get stuff done during a solid nap.

Do y'all know what I got done in the last 110 minutes? Laundry. Dishes. Tidied up the living room. Solo potty break. Paid the bills (that's right, ALL of the bills for February are p.a.i.d. PAID.) Ate a hot meal in peace.  Oh, right... and posted here!

That's what my son did for me today. And he's only 14 months old. He has never been left to cry alone, he's never been scheduled, he just is who he is and sleeps well when he's comfortable, fed, clean, and happy, just like us grown folks. Take THAT, snarky hospital stranger lady. :P Put that in your experiential cynicism and smoke it. HAH!!

In other news, we got our taxes filed, and discovered that we'll be getting enough in our refund to buy JJ his mattress and make up for John's lost hours through March, longer if he can find a different job that is willing to accommodate his class schedule.  One huge sigh of relief, lemme tell ya.  Soon as that refund hits, we are hitting the mattress store and getting one wiggly 25 pound toddler-boy his own dang bed.  It's going right in alongside ours for now, but the point is that everybody will have plenty of room to sleep comfortably again.  (Though I somehow suspect that I'm still going to wake up with JJ's head buried in my armpit!)

One of these days... I'm going to figure out how to get our with-holdings set up just right so Uncle Sam gets exactly what he's entitled to and no more, and funnel what would normally have been taken into a savings account so it makes money for US throughout the year. Don't laugh, it can be done, my momma did it, and I am GOING to figure it out.

*sigh* Maybe I'll take that H&R Block class after all...

Teething bites...

Pun absolutely intended, so groan away, oh ye of little humor.  That one was for my Xanth fans. :P

Teething bites.  For everyone.  JJ is normally a very happy baby, and even when teething pains strike, he's not usually too much of a grumpy puss during the day.  No... the trouble in this house is at NIGHT.  He fights going to sleep, he wants to nurse for half an hour after dozing off before he will permit me to actually lay him down, then he proceeds to wake up every forty-five minutes to nurse some more.  Then, around one or two in the morning, we get to the REALLY fun part.  That's when he usually decides that nursing is insufficient comfort and spends a good two hours being fully awake and wanting to play.

I usually end up either sobbing or screaming with frustration, because all I want to do at that point sleep.  Especially after John and I spent the day before moving things (large things) around in the garage and carrying boxes downstairs to free up space.  My legs are screaming and my ankles and hips aren't happy either.

In the end, nothing "gentle" persuades him to go back to sleep during these early AM party sessions.  He will lay quietly nursing for hours, with his eyes wide open and staring at me in the dim light that sneaks around the curtains.  When my nipples can't take it anymore, he is equally happy to crawl around on the bed, smacking whatever parts of me he can reach with gleeful abandon.  Hard.   By the time the second hour rolls around, he's already had fresh orajel applied and gotten a dose of baby Tylenol, so by this point I'm usually reduced to softly begging.

Which never works.

What does work (usually, and only towards the end of said second hour) is simply holding the little monkey in a nice cradling cuddle and refusing to let him move from that position.

Baby.  Loses.  His.  Damn.  Mind.

Seriously, you'd think I was dipping the kid in boiling acid or something.  Arching, shrieking (not screaming, SHRIEKING), thrashing, anything to wiggle loose and get me to let him keep playing.  And I have to keep it up for a solid sixty seconds until he stops fighting and is just crying, then it's back to the boob and he usually drops right off to sleep shortly thereafter.

At which point Mommy curls into a little ball and sobs quietly into her pillows because morning is only about 2 hours away.  Singing, nursing, rocking, fresh diaper, orajel, baby tylenol, scalp massage, foot/calf rubs, cuddling, binky, all the standard stuff calms him but nothing works to actually get him to go back to sleep, and I'm out of ideas.  I HATE doing that to him, listening to those enraged, betrayed howls rips my heart out, but it's the only thing that's working lately. 

It's after 8 now, and JJ is still sleeping, because when the alarm went off at 6:30 I just was not ready to face the day.  At all.  My body hurts, I'm  not the least bit hungry even though I know I really should eat, and all I want to do is mainline both of us some Nyquil so he'll sleep for a few more hours and I can greet the afternoon in a saner frame of mind.

But yeah...we have too much to get done today.

Aaaaaaaaand there he is, sleepy little monkey.

"Stranger Danger", 3-2, and other news...

Anybody who has or is planning to have children has likely read about a few of the more common six month milestones.  Little man has hit a couple of them early, and I'm bored, so here we are. *wink*

Crawling's the big one, and while JJ is trying REALLY DANGED HARD, he's not quite there yet.  He's got the motion of arms & and the motion of legs, and he's got that he needs to push up with his arms and push forward with his feet, but he hasn't quite figured out how to coordinate it all so he doesn't smoosh his face into the mattress.  It infuriates the poor guy, and I'm sitting there biting my lip because the baby rage is just that hilarious.  *I will .... NOT... laugh... at my child...  with, yes.  At, no.*

Minnows is being extremely tolerant 

of JJ using him for a stability-assist!

Last Saturday (4/28), JJ abruptly decided that he no longer needed three naps every day.  Which, despite the fact that I missed it at first and tried for the next two days to coax him into taking a third full nap, is a relief.  My little guy needs a minimum of 90 minutes of continuous sleep in order to really be alert and happy and functional.  He doesn't get it, he is a GRUMPY BEAR.  Coordinating three naps of a minimum of 90 minutes each (and no longer than an hour and forty-five) left very little room in the day for getting anything else done, and getting out of the house was difficult to the point of not being worth the effort.  = Stir-Crazy Laura.  So, after deciding on Tuesday "Okay, bug, we'll try it your way and see what happens", on Sunday I am happy to acknowledge defeat.  Oh, he was super fussy the first day, but each day he gets a little happier, a little less screechy, a little less tired, and...

... (wait for it)...

HE HAS STOPPED WAKING ME UP FOUR FREAKING TIMES EVERY NIGHT.  We're down to one middle-of-the-night feed, somewhere between one and three in the morning depending on how many times he fussed up for food after bedtime, and that, friends, is a routine I can totally deal with.  I no longer feel the daily constant need to crash on the couch every time the baby is asleep.

He's also gone back to very quick transitions into sleep, thank God.  

I LIKE letting him nurse for the first 10-15 minutes of a nap... 

he is one limp baby going into the cosleeper!

I had to get some new binkies a week or so back, when I caught JJ trying to stuff his entire Soothie into his mouth.  Yes, I know, I mentioned that particular pitfall when I reviewed the Soothie.  So when I caught JJ doing exactly that thing, I took the Soothie away, gave him one of our less than preferred binkies as a temporary fix, and ordered him some more age-appropriate binkies from the same supplier... product review coming soon!

Last, but certainly not least, "Stranger Danger" has indeed reared its ugly head.  Now, John is having some trouble with the concept... when I mentioned it to him, he looked at me like I was a little bit bats and said "I don't really see how Grandma is a stranger..."  *shakes head*  He's a guy, he's literal like that... shoulda figured.  Anyway, JJ has pretty much decided that only Mommy and Daddy are acceptable, and does the Little Screech Owl thing (but mad/sad) whenever I leave him with Grandma, even for a few minutes.   (Rest assured, I still DO, if only because I need sunlight and sexytime every once in a very great while.)

What can I say... he's my little snug-a-bug!

"Nighttime Parenting" ... more like "Parenting Olympics"

SO... Yesterday was interesting.  JJ took three (count 'em, THREE) forty-five minute catnaps.  He then refused a fourth entirely, despite it being a perfectly normal naptime for m... 'er... him...

ANYWAY... he stayed awake for three hours and fifteen minutes and finally passed out on my shoulder at quarter to six.

Of course, I looked at the clock with dread, trying to figure out if I should try to get him to stay asleep, or let him "recharge" and just be up half the night.

In the end I opted to make a go of convincing him that he really was tired enough to sleep through the night from six pm.

We had a bobble (with more sleep-nursing) around 6:30, and he was SO restless I just held him.  The next two hours had a lot of comfort nursing and 3/4 asleep trips to Mommy's shoulder for burps, but by nine he was back in the cosleeper.

I inhaled dinner, and good thing because he was reflux-fussing again at ten thirty.  After that one I just gave up on the Arm's Reach and kept him on me for the night.  Oh the gymnastics I tried in order to get that kid to stay asleep!  I suppose this is a preview of coming attractions, anytime he's teething or sick.

I doubt I got thirty minutes of continuous sleep all night.

My reward?

Thirteen hours and thirty minutes of baby sleep, inclusive of nursing/burping/eeeeeeeaaasing down to the mattress and praying he stays down this time.

And this morning...

Rested, active, happy baby boy.

So totally worth it.